


asleep in my arms

by somethingiswrong



Series: stairs and steps [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, Max POV, Second Person, Song fic, fluff if you squint, poetry-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 17:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingiswrong/pseuds/somethingiswrong
Summary: You’re not in love.You can’t say that you’re in love.Maybe in another lifetime.Or.Another universe.You’re not in love with Victoria.You know you’re not.Not in this lifetime.Not in this timeline.———Max loves Victoria in her timeline.But she knows that she will have to return to the original timeline. She has work to do.And Victoria will not remember her.





	asleep in my arms

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: Summer Skin - Isla Roe

You miss the warmth of her touch against the shaking of your skin.

 

Her summer skin.

 

Her orbs of green that seems to bore into your skull. The throbbing of your throat—squeezing so tight and with so much control under it.

 

Maybe you are trying not to cry. (but you aren’t so sure)

 

The look in her eyes when she tells you just how much she loves you, the delight on her face when you touch her shoulder—when you engulf her into your embrace.

 

(but perhaps it is yourself that you are trying to love)

 

You tell yourself this; like you’re in love with her.

 

And you know you are not.

 

You’re not in love.

 

Not because of the sparks in her eyes every time you talk to her.

 

Not because of the way her lips quirk to the side to a small smile whenever you talk to her. (it entrances you and you cannot look away)

 

Not because of the way she rests her chin on your shoulder; not the way she wraps her arms around your neck and kisses you so soundly; not the way she whispers so gently to your ear.

 

You’re not in love.

 

You can’t say that you’re in love.

 

Maybe in another lifetime.

 

Or.

 

Another universe.

 

“I can’t say that I think about you constantly.”

 

There is something in your voice that you want to turn off.

 

“But,”

 

You caress her cheek with your fingers and stare too intensely into her eyes.

 

“I can’t deny that each time my mind wanders,”

 

There is vulnerability that you want to fight back.

 

There is regret in every touch that you give her.

 

“It always goes back to you.”

 

Just the look in her eyes. Just the way her hand touches yours. Just the way her lips graze over your tender skin that is rapidly turning too warm. Just the way she smiles so bright and full of joy when she wakes up next to you.

 

You’re not in love with Victoria.

 

You know you’re not.

 

Not in this lifetime.

 

Not in this timeline.

 

Because you know that the next day that you’re going to wake up to.

 

You know the bed will be cold on the other side, and her blonde hair and the scent of her skin will still be there.

 

You want her to stay.

 

You want her here with you.

 

You want the laughter of her heart against yours.

 

“Don’t go.”

 

You beg.

 

But you don’t know if she can hear you or not.

 

“Don’t,”

 

There is vulnerability in your voice and you don’t know how to turn it off.

 

Your eyes water and you want to look away.

 

But you have to make sure that she will be there the next morning.

 

You have to be sure.

 

“Please.”

 

Even though you know she won’t.

 

“Please.”

 

Even though you know she will leave you cold and lonely in your wake.

 

“Please…”

 

You beg for her love.

 

Because you know that you’re not in love with her.

 

There is desperation in your voice, and you need— _need—_ her there beside you.

 

You need her and you want her touch so badly.

 

You need to hear her voice and her whispers to you.

 

You need to know that she still loves you.

 

Though, you touch her silhouette and you know that she is gone.

 

And that the next time you fall asleep and wake up, you will be in another timeline.

 

And you will see her.

 

And you know that you know everything about her.

 

And you will remember the intimacy you share with her.

 

And the little things about her that give you so much joy.

 

And you know that she will not remember any of it.

 

She will not remember the way you kiss her.

 

She will not remember the way you talk.

 

She will not miss you.

 

Like the way you tell yourself. That you will not miss her.

 

Too.

 

But you know so well that when you walk pass her,

 

You will look into her eyes like the way she does to you back then.

 

The look that bores into the back of your skull and makes your throat bob.

 

You will leave her little notes outside her locker like you always do.

 

Just the little things that bring her so much joy.

 

Just to see that little smile in her eyes and on her lips.

 

Maybe it is brief and it is nothing.

 

But you know that it will be everything to you.

 

And you tell yourself that you’re not in love with her.

 

Because you can’t anymore.

 

But you know you will want to hear her voice.

 

And see her face.

 

Even though you know that she will not remember you.

 

And that she will be talking about someone else.

 

And not you.

 

So you tell yourself that you’re not in love with her.

 

Not anymore.

 

She brings you too much joy.

 

And too much sorrow.

 

But maybe perhaps.

 

You’re not in love with her is what you tell yourself.

 

But you are.

 

And she will not remember that.

 

Too.

 

“I love you.” Is what you tell her.

 

And she looks at you as if you’re crazy.

 

And you know that she is gone.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Bring me sadness  
> All your joy  
> Your summer skin  
> Your summer skin
> 
> Like it was  
> Like it was yesterday  
> You're all I miss  
> I'll always miss  
> Your summer skin
> 
> (small practice atm, but ill probably add more to the series later)


End file.
